Chuck vs the Idiot Friends
by TheRealJules
Summary: Sarah Walker decided to stopped drinking a long time ago, because it makes her one thing: honest. But when her "idiot friends" come into town, she overindulges for the first time in a long time, before finding her way to Chuck's apartment. Set early on, season 1 or 2ish. PURE Charah fluff, featuring Chuck being the total gentleman that he is.


A few months after Chuck received the intersect

"I don't really drink much." Sarah slurped a noodle from the take-out container in her hand before placing it back on the table and wiping the corners of her mouth, careful not to disturb her lipstick.

Chuck looked at her incredulously. "You're saying you've _never_ drank much? Here I am telling stories from my college frat boy days, and I find out you never had a phase?" Chuck leaned back in his chair, bumping the CIA-computer-laden desk behind him.

Though she smiled, Sarah's eyes stayed on the monitors—good _someone_ was paying attention, given the fact that they were supposed to be tracking the movements of their target—laughing to herself. "My college days were hindered in no small part by, you know, becoming a trained assassin. Not much room for partying. But no, I definitely had my phase." Sarah smiled and looked at the floor. "I didn't really like who I became when I drank, so I pretty much stopped."

Chuck knew he was goading her, and that she hated it when he pried into her personal life, but he was having a good time. He was having a good time with _her,_ which in his mind, was the best time he could possibly have. He just couldn't stop himself from crossing his arms, looking at her inquisitively, and asking, "what could you possibly turn into that you wouldn't like?"

Sarah huffed through her smile, crossing her arms at the same time. She took a beat, and looked through her long lashes, right up into his eyes, "honest." Chuck's smile faded only slightly, "Kind of a liability in this line of work."

Chuck gave her a smile, hoping she would understand that she could be honest with _him_ about anything. He didn't want to push her too hard—he never wanted to push her at all. "So, you quit cold turkey, then?"

"Not really, just not to excess. Especially when you are always looking over your shoulder, I just like to be aware all the time. My idiot friends, on the other hand—"

Chuck sat up and leaned forward, eager to learn more, squealing like a girl scout, "ooh! What friends are these? I think I'm entitled to meet them." Sarah glared at him, seemingly pushing him back into his chair with her mind. "heh heh, you know, to, uh, protect the cover!"

Some several months later

It was the mission, he thought to himself, that was making him so… something. Ellie had been put in danger, and even though it all turned out for the best, Chuck was considerably shaken up. Sarah didn't seem to understand. She couldn't understand, he couldn't expect her to understand, what it was like to have people you needed to protect for no other reason than they are _your_ people. And he was angry, not at her, but at himself. "I can't make you get it, Sarah, I'm sorry. I don't talk about it much, but Ellie and I didn't really have parents. She raised me. When mom left, dad was there but he was never really there, and, Sarah, I love her, so, so, much. And today, _she_ was put in danger, and it was _my_ fault and it was _because…_ because I'm just a screw up sometimes—"

"Chuck, no—" Sarah stepped to him, trying to cut him off. She reached to put her hand on his arm, but he was faster, grabbing her wrist and lowering it back down, but holding on to her hand.

"Sarah, yes. It's okay, we both know this isn't where I am supposed to be." Chuck looked at their hands for a moment before sighing and pulling his hand from hers. Instant emptiness, he thought to himself. It only served to make him angrier at himself. His tone rose with every word he spoke as he made his way up the stairs of the castle, leaving Sarah down below. "I am supposed to be the guy who works at the Buy More, fixes computers, goes home and plays Call of Duty. Lather, rinse, repeat, until I die, and you know maybe that would be better for everyone, so the people I love would stop being put in danger." Chuck paused at the top landing, looking to the ceiling and sighing before saying, quieter, "Maybe I'm just as broken as the computers I fix," as he walked out the door.

A week or two later

Morgan was on his way out after a night of video gaming, packing up his custom-made ergonomically-designed Xbox controller, as Chuck was cleaning up the pizza boxes, beer cans, and whatever other refuse had managed to find its way to the floor through the night. "Hey man, how are things going with Sarah?"

Chuck sighed internally and tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, "things are great man, sometimes I feel like it's so great it couldn't possibly be real." Realizing he sounded a little bitter, covered, "I mean, uh, nothing's wrong, what's up?"

"Oh, nothing dude, I just haven't seen her in a few days. Was just wondering where she was, that's all." Chuck breathed a silent sigh of relief, hating himself for having to lie to his best friend. He said a silent grateful prayer that this time, he didn't have to lie.

"Yeah, she has some friends in from out of town this weekend. No idea what they're doing, but I hope she's having a good time. Believe it or not, she doesn't really have that many friends here yet. She only just moved her six months ago, but it feels longer than that, right?" Chuck briefly recalled a memory of a conversation he'd had with her a few months earlier, about her 'idiot friends' as she had affectionately called them.

"Totally. I'll see you tomorrow, buddy." Chuck closed the door behind his friend and looked at the clock underneath the TV. Blinking _1:31,_ over and over again. Alone then, he couldn't help but wonder what Sarah was doing, and what four, super-hot, super-lethal spy girlfriends do for fun. It was with that thought that Chuck readied himself for bed, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, threw on some pajama bottoms before turning out the light and crawling face first into bed. Instantly he started thinking about Sarah again, drifting off to sleep with the thought of her kicking the shit out of the bad guy of the week the other day, saving Ellie's life without her even know she was in danger in the first place. What a badass.

A scratching noise on the window brought him immediately to attention, opening his eyes and trying to see who was outside without giving away the fact that he was awake. A shock of blonde hair quelled his fears. "Sarah?" He whispered to no one in particular. He stood from the bed and moved silently towards the window, where he noticed she was working on the lock. He watched her for a minute as her face twisted in a kind of intermittent dedication, as though one moment she was convinced she were a locksmith, and the next she would be content to just break the window and unlock it from the inside. Hoping to avoid that option, Chuck opened the doors with just a little push. Sarah's eyes followed the door that was apparently unlocked all along, seemingly unaware of Chuck's presence, saying, or more accurately, slurring, "what in the hell?"

Chuck couldn't help himself but to laugh, which managed to catch her attention. A big smile broke out on her face instantly, "Chuck!" She attempted to stand and very nearly crashed head first into the brick ledge in front of her. Chuck saw it coming and grabbed her by the arms and brought her to a standing position. She instantly took the opportunity to step up onto the window ledge and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well, hello to you too, Sarah, having a nice night?" He could tell that, more than likely, she did not have a very nice night. She was more or less covered in dirt, there were twigs in her hair, which seemed to have come at least half undone from the up-do he guessed she'd put it up in to start the night.

Sarah pouted, linking her fingers together. In this position, with her standing on the window ledge, chuck found his face just about level with her chest. He tried not think about it. "No, everything was terrible. My idiot friends are here." Chuck couldn't help himself from laughing, which for some reason inclined her to place her head on top of his, moving her hands from around his neck down over his (bare) chest before resting on his waist. Chuck's internal body temperature suddenly rose a few degrees and he looked up at the ceiling, cursing himself as she spoke, "s'not fuuuunny, Chuck, they're dumb, they make me do dumb things."

"Like drinking, I guess? Let's get you inside." Chuck half-guided, half-lifted her into the room, basically carrying her to his bed, where he sat her down on the edge.

"YES! Like drinking. Dumb, s'my fault."

"It's no one's fault, Sarah. You're entitled to a night out ever now and again." Chuck went to his dresser and pulled out a shirt to put on, acutely aware of just how much she could see, and touch, and look at, and… stuff. He shook his head. He'd had a few beers himself.

"No, I wanted to just go and have a drink or _two, not eleven._ " Chuck, now dressed in a t-shirt and feeling significantly more secure and level-headed, looked at her with surprise. She slurred on, spitting out the words, "Carina, stupid Carina, she _knewwww_ what I wanted to say, what I've always wanted to say, and she just knew this would happen, that stupid Carina." Sarah let out a high pitch giggle, so unlike her typical soft-grin-light-exhalation that Chuck was used to. "Stupid Carina, she's so pretty, I love her so much, she's my best friend, I trust her. She would want me to tell you, and I want to tell you, I should be honest with you."

Chuck's heart stopped for a moment, and it took everything he had to stop her from talking, saying while sitting down next to her, "anything you have to be drunk to tell me, I'd rather you say it sober."

Sarah gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes he could ever remember seeing while swinging her legs up onto his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck again, whining, "But I don't think I can, Chuck." Jutting her lower lip out, he couldn't stop himself from thinking she was just about the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

Chuck sighed, using all of the self-restraint known to man to turn down the gorgeous woman currently sitting across his lap. "I'll be here when you can, sarah, trust me. I'll be around as long as you want me."

At this, Sarah smiled. "Promise?"

Chuck couldn't resist from placing his forehead on hers as he replied, "Promise."

"Pinky swear?" Her eyebrows furrowed, as though she was speaking very seriously. She stuck out her pinky for him, but was having trouble keeping her arm steady.

Chuck wrapped one big hand around her wrist to stabilize it, and locked her pinky in his. "Pinky swear. Now can I get these twigs out of your hair? They look uncomfortable."

Sarah purses her lips and turns her chin high up in the air away from him, saying resolutely, "I like my twigs."

"I like them too, but I like them better out of your hair, so you can see them."

Sarah smiled blissfully. "That makes sense. I like _youuuu,_ chuck." She made a noise of discontent and muttered something to herself.

He could feel his cheeks warming up, choosing not to respond as he moved to sit behind her, plucking leaves and twigs and— "Sarah, why are there feathers in your hair?"

"Because I _like them!_ I like _youuuu,_ Chuck."

Chuck cleared his throat, not knowing what to say. "I like you too Sarah, you save good people and beat bad people up, and evidently you can also beat up, uh, a chicken? I think? Alright, you're all good. Hold still." Sarah happily obliged as chuck took her jacket off of her, followed by her heeled boots. Chuck couldn't help but stare at her long legs, having to force his eyes back to their task. "Okay, lay down." Scooting her way happily up to chuck's side of the bed, Sarah hit the pillow with some considerable force, bumping her head on the headboard on the way down. Chuck winced and went immediately to her side, knees on the floor, looking at her head. "are you okay?"

Perplexed, Sarah responded, "course, why wunnit I be?"

"yikes, sarah, you've really done a lot haven't you…" He said it mostly to himself as he handed her the bottle of water from his nightstand, which she took greedily, "hey, slow sips, Sarah," he touched her cheek quickly before retracting his hand like it had just met a flame, before repeating, "slow sips. Do you need anything? How did you even get here?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuber."

"Uber"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuber. He sucked. I told him 'take me to Chuck.'"

He couldn't help but smile in response. "What and that didn't work? Fool." Chuck busied himself getting stuff he thought she might want. He placed his emergency jar of peanut butter and a spoon on the bed side table, and the next time he turned around, she was licking a spoonful like a lollipop. _It is getting very warm in here_ , he thought before turning away and shaking his head.

Sarah raised her fist in agreement, staring at it as she shouted, "Fool! So, I had to give him your dumb address."

Sarah, having discarded her licked-clean spoon on the table next to her, had curled on to her side, facing Chuck, but she looked just about tuckered out, so chuck got up quietly and started to head to the door. "Chuck, where are you going?"

"I'm going to go sleep on the couch. If you need anything, you can just shout, okay?" Chuck couldn't resist the urge to swipe the hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear.

"No, chuck, stay here, pleeeaaaase," Sarah pleaded. His instinct was to say no, but Chuck weighed his options. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like if Sarah woke up, not remembering what happened, in his bed, _with_ him. Not good. He took another step towards the door. "If you go sleep on the couch, then I'm going to come sleep on the floor." With that, Chuck had no option but to cave.

"Fine, but I'm just going to grab you some things really fast." Sarah smiled sleepily and grabbed his hand, attempting to bring it to her face, he imagined, but accidentally making him give her an awkward pat on the head. She didn't seem to mind. "Oh kay."

When he came back with his small armory of drunken/hangover supplies, he thought she was asleep, so he tried to tiptoe out of the room again. "Ohhhh, no you don't, missster. Get over here."

Chuck swore under his breath. This was happening. "alright, alright." First, he tucked her in, making sure she was underneath all of the covers. He got in on the opposite side of the bed, leaving the top sheet under him in an effort to leave a small modicum of space between them. Sarah, with surprising strength given her condition, yanked the sheet out from under him, and clumsily wrapped it around him, attempting to make him a burrito before settling back down on the pillow, but with her arm still across his chest.

She sighed contentedly with her eyes closed. "I like you, Chuck."

A knot caught itself in his throat. He shut his eyes tightly as he remembered a conversation from not too long ago, wherein Sarah had said that drinking makes her one thing: honest. He bit his tongue. There was so much he wanted to ask her, so much he needed to hear her say, that he thought was true but could never be sure. He bit his tongue _so_ hard. He could not take advantage of her that way. He couldn't ask her a single question. He couldn't, he wouldn't. Then, she put her head on his shoulder, and all of his restraint folded. "Sarah, why did you come here? Why didn't you go to your place? I'm happy you're safe, but why here?"

Sarah thought for a moment, propping her chin on his shoulder, her face so impossibly close to his he could barely breathe. She nodded for a moment. "Because. I like you, Chuck." Then she rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"But," Chuck searched the ceiling, refusing to look at her, "why?"

A look of purposeful thoughtfulness crossed her face. "You're like me. Or, I mean, not like me. You know me. You get me. You're broken, too, Chuck." The knot in his throat tightened. So that was it. He was damaged. "Not _broken._ Not as bad as me obviously but I see it, it's there. You just understand what it's like _to be broken._ It's there." She put her finger on his nose. "Riiiiiight there. I like you for a lot of reasons, chuck. I like how pure you aaare, and how wholesome you aaare, and how smart and brave you aa—" she whispered this into his neck as she started to climb on top of him, be Chuck stopped her with both hands, placing her gently back on her—well, his, but hers for tonight—side of the bed.

"Stop, sarah. As much as I would love to hear you say these things, it's not fair to you to let you go on right now. Do you want to go to sleep?" A mischevious grin popped up on her face and chuck instantly knew that was the wrong question as her hand started to move from his chest, lower, lower and lower.

"No, chuck, I want to—" He stopped her hand with his and moved it back up where it belonged.

"let's go to sleep Sarah." He blurted it out fast, and higher than he would've wanted, but he counts it as a miracle that he was able to stop her at all. She looked disappointed but lay her head back on his shoulder as he turned out the light.

Silence reigned for a moment, but he couldn't let it go without saying _something,_ "I'm happy you're here, Sarah."

He felt her smile against his shoulder, and he had run out of all will power when she snuggled up against his side, pressing her body to his. He just couldn't stop her anymore. "Chuck, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, and that's the truth."


End file.
